


Teasing

by just_kiss_already



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_kiss_already/pseuds/just_kiss_already
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charley can't help watching his new neighbor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teasing

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place pretty early on in the movie. Pre-Charley knowing about Jerry being a vampire. Is Charley technically underage? I can't remember.  
> Currently I plan on continuing but I don't know for sure.  
> I have no beta, so please let me know if there's any mistakes :)

Every evening Jerry is out in the front or back yard, working. The house has been neglected long enough to give the weeds free license, and between their mutiny and the remodeling to the backyard he's doing, installing some kind of patio or something, the man is a nonstop machine. Digging, ripping, pulling, hauling, lifting, thick arms and square face covered in sweat, t-shirt soaked through.  


Charley has been watching. He's seen the work from his bedroom window, unable to pull his eyes away.  


The first couple of nights, nothing in particular happened. Once or twice Jerry would stop and glance around, his eyes flicking casually up to Charley's window; Charley would duck, mortified, certain he was caught, but when he finally worked up the nerve to look out the window again, it was all business as usual until Jerry put his tools away and went inside to either relax or get ready for work.  


The fourth night, though, Jerry looked up at the window with eyebrows raised, corners of his lips curling. Did he know Charley had been watching? The move was so definite, so clearly meant to meet his stare, that he didn't bother with ducking. His cheeks burning, neck quickly following suit, Charley had returned Jerry's wave meekly.  


By the sixth night, Charley had been unable to wait any longer, telling himself he's just being nosy, just curious because what if his mom actually took in interest in the man? Or whatever. The reason didn't matter except for when Charley actually took the time to consider what he was doing, an activity he avoided with passion.  


Outside, Jerry was working on the backyard again, right on the little patch Charley could see from his bedroom window. A perfect view in the dim, bluish light. As soon as Charley's eyes had found him, Jerry straightened up, back to the boy, and wiped his sweaty face with his forearm. He'd turned his head slightly, face in profile, before reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it off in one easy movement.  


Charley was unable to breathe for a moment, and when his breath did come back, his chest felt tight and hot.  


This had continued for two more nights, Jerry in the backyard, shirtless, working with less fury than before, almost leisurely, taking his time with this ridiculously small area of his lawn, with lots of stretching and lounging in between.  


Now, tonight, Charley faces a somewhat daunting task.  


For reasons he'd rather leave unanalyzed, he had dawdled in taking out the trash after dinner, irritating his mother, the poor woman already sick of his constant "moping" in his room. Now she is in bed reading and Charley has to go outside.  


For a brief moment, he sits at the kitchen table, frowning in silence at the bag sitting by the door. Surely Jerry is out there, working, and what the hell will they say to each other?  


Rising, unable to follow where the rest of the questions lead, wanting to stay comfortably oblivious to the thoughts in the back of his own mind, Charley grabs the trash and heads out the door. He refuses to even look at Jerry's yard, now that there isn't glass and curtains and a house between them. It's silent over there anyway. Maybe Jerry isn't working on the house tonight. Maybe he's inside, or already at work. One can always hope.  


Dropping the lid of the huge trash can on the side of the house, Charley hears distinctive sounds behind him, a shuffle and a creak, and turns smartly, unnerved.  


Sure enough, Jerry is leaning in the frame of the wooden fence, smiling, eyes narrow and dark with shadows.  


"Hey, guy," he murmurs, his voice deep and smooth and ultra masculine. His posture is like that of a big cat, a tiger perhaps, relaxed but poised to strike.  


Charley almost stutters in surprise, heart racing. "Hey..."  


A slight shift and Jerry is further into the little trash area, his presence fills the small space. "How's my little voyeur?" There's a trace of mirth.  


Maybe he doesn't know everything, maybe he only knows about the one night when he waved... Charley looks away quickly, staring at the cement, unable to stop himself from backing up. "Oh, hey," he says, laughing awkwardly, trying to play it off. "Sorry, I was just wondering what you were doing, like what you were building or whatever-"  


Jerry interrupts him, grinning now, stepping even closer until Charley is backed up against the fence. "It's okay, champ." He lifts a hand, palm out as if to suggest he's harmless, before placing it on Charley's shoulder. The fingers curl around his shoulder, but the man's palm rests close to his chest, like the beginning of a caress. "Maybe you'd like to help me?" With his other hand, Jerry scratches at his own stomach, lifting his shirt slightly to do so, revealing flesh as if by accident though it doesn't feel like it's unintentional. "You could swing by, huh? I'm off tonight. Why don't you come over and I'll show you the plans."  


"I, uh, hey, yeah, sure, maybe tomorrow night, though, I have, uh, I have to..."  


Jerry leans close, head tilted so that he might whisper in the kid's ear. He's so close, he smells of cologne and fabric softener and something else, his own person scent. Charley helplessly stares at the man's dark hair, his tanned neck, the curve of his ear, as Jerry murmurs, "go ahead."  


His breath is stolen again. "W-what?"  


Closer still, the words tickling his ear. "Touch me."  


No no no. Oh god. The sudden erection Charley has strains against his jeans, pressing, uncomfortable. Almost as uncomfortable as the confusion it brings. "I... I can't... Amy..."  


"Isn't here right now, Charley. No one had to know." The arm on Charley's shoulder slides around, pulling him closer, as his free hand drops, just hangs there, not guiding or inviting. Clearly saying, you have to take the step yourself.  


And god does he want to. He shouldn't, but he wants to with every atom of his body straining towards this cold dominant man.  


Something brushes against Charley's ear, hot and wet, possibly the tip of a tongue, and he's lost.  


With one shaking hand, he presses against the man's pec, feeling the unyielding muscle under the cotton and skin, so different from how he imagined a girl would feel. His hand slides of it's own will down to touch his firm stomach, but stopping, unable to move further.  


They stand there, locked together for a beat, before finally Jerry's hand comes up, locking around Charley's wrist and bringing it down even further to where he didn't dare go on his own.  


The hard on he feels through Jerry's jeans is thrilling, empties his brain of every single thought until there's simply the bulk of Jerry's dick under his hand and his own erection complaining of neglect.  


The hiss he hears in his ear is erotic, but when he curls his fingers ever so slowly to encase the length he feels there, Jerry moans and Charley almost cums right then and there.  


Emboldened by the encouragement, Charley moves his hand up and down along that length, pressing harder to make himself felt through the denim.  


"Fuck yes," Jerry grunts, nuzzling against Charley's neck, in the crook there by his shoulder. He uses his free hand to undo his belt and jeans before pulling his dick out, pumping it a little with his own hand before grabbing Charley's and wrapping it around.  


Charley is shocked, honestly, not quite expecting it to escalate this far. A dry hump is one thing, but to actually touch the burning skin, feel his precum against his inner wrist, it's happening so fast that he almost wants to stop.  


Almost.  


But the promise of further escalation is so sweet.  


Charley wraps his hand tightly around Jerry's dick and starts to jerk it steadily, and in response the man begins to lick his neck, long strokes with his hot tongue, nibbling too.  


He grabs Charley's shoulders, fingers digging in so hard it hurts as he cums, coating the kid's hand and splattering a little on his jeans. It takes him a minute, he's so distracted by his own arousal, but he realizes Jerry is biting his neck, not truly clamping down, but resting his teeth against the skin there as he groans.  


Pulling away a little, Jerry tucks himself back into his jeans before cupping Charley's jaw, his smile warm with affection. "Come over in a little bit," he murmurs in that irresistible voice, a command as well as an offer, a promise.  


As soon as Jerry is out of sight, it's like a spell has been broken, and Charley realizes he's standing there covered in semen. Confused, a little grossed out, he hurries back to the house, hoping his mom is still asleep.  


He has to get ready for the rest of the night.


End file.
